


Improving the Tennis Game (eat your heart out Charlotte Whitney)

by Anonymous



Series: AHS fic anon [3]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Murder House, American Horror Story: Roanoke
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Tennis, country club, inappropriate use of chain-link fences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29054484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Billie Dean Howard in a tennis skirt + Audrey Tindall = yet another thing that's definitely not on the approved list of country club activities.(Sex. It's sex.)
Relationships: Billie Dean Howard/Audrey Tindall
Series: AHS fic anon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131674
Kudos: 12
Collections: Anonymous





	Improving the Tennis Game (eat your heart out Charlotte Whitney)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shineestark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineestark/gifts), [grilledcheeseandguavajelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grilledcheeseandguavajelly/gifts).



> Vivi shineestark is still the BillieAudrey queen, but grilledcheeseandguavajelly gave us the line "imagine Audrey on top of Billie, the racket falling out of Billie's hand" and I had to oblige.

“My pride! My dignity!”

“Sacrificed at the altar of my unbroken winning streak,” Billie panted triumphantly, eyes shining with a cocksure glint as her opponent contorted to lean on her racket as she caught her breath, eventually giving up and allowing herself to collapse sideways and sprawl out on the hardtop of the tennis court.

Billie laughed, spinning her racket with a twist of her hand as she walked across the court to stand, victorious, over her match partner.

Alana threw her arm over her eyes, moaning dramatically as she let her racket clatter just out of reach, and Billie snickered at the put-on histrionics. “What a cruel mistress! Is there no mercy in your heart to spare a single allowance for such a poor soul?”

Sweeping her hands out in a grandiose gesture, Billie gave a menacing grin as Alana peeked out from under her arm, leaning over to truly loom over the other woman, “Look upon my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”

Alana and Billie could only keep the charade up for a moment before they both collapsed into laughter, Billie reaching out and helping the other woman up off the ground.

This was the routine; Billie would win handily, Alana would bemoan her inability to ever come close to beating Billie, they’d have a good laugh and call it a day until their next scheduled match. 

Alana was about as much of a regular at the country club as Billie, and unlike most of the other women that frequented the club and the courts, Alana didn’t really care that Billie was Billie Dean Howard. 

She came to play, to exercise her body, to keep her technique sharp, and then go home. 

It was no wonder she’d been Billie’s opponent of choice from nearly the start of Billie’s membership.

“One day…” Alana trailed off wistfully, clasping her racket to her chest, and Billie couldn’t help but roll her eyes and snort ungainly.

“Not on my watch,” she vowed, pointing to Alana with a sharp grin. 

Alana staggered as if wounded before straightening up with a smile and wink. “I’ll see you later, Billie,” she waved, snagging her water bottle from the corner of the court as she made her way to the gate.

Billie waved in return, still breathing somewhat heavily as she made her way to her own corner of the court tucked up against the fenceline. A short but useful bench ran a quarter of the length of the court, and Billie allowed herself to collapse down onto it for a moment as she reached for her own water bottle and drank deeply.

Pulling off the bottle with a wet smack, she set down the bottle to pick up a towel, wiping messily at her face and neck. Sweat beaded heavily along and through her hairline, but she knew it was a sisyphean task to try and dry her hair at this point, with her heart rate still elevated and the weather so warm. Instead, she discreetly dipped the towel down the front of her shirt to swipe at her cleavage, then gave the back of her neck another pass. 

Glancing up, she huffed out a breath; Alana had hit at least one ball clear over the back fence, and she’d hit at least two back there as well. The club didn’t specifically count how many balls were in the hopper when you returned it, but it was good sportsmanship to try and fish out what you could from the bushes that ran just behind the court as well as knock any stuck balls out from behind the backboard. And Billie was nothing if not the most sportsmanlike member of the country club.

Grabbing her racket, as she was sure she’d need it to jostle the balls down from the bushes, Billie heaved herself off the bench with a groan, making her way down the length of the court to walk through and quickly turn back around the gate to follow the outside of the fence towards the backboard.

It was tedious to pick up the balls, but the gap between the bushes and the backboard was intensely shaded, and often a handful of degrees cooler than the rest of the court, providing a welcome reprieve from the heat most days.

Sure enough, Billie stepped around into the gap and immediately sighed delightedly at the cooling breeze and relief from the sun.

That sigh strangled its way to a gasp as a body collided with Billie’s, pushing her forcefully against the fence, the chain-link creaking metallically as she bounced against it.

Panic threaded through, before well-known hands were gripping her face, her waist, her legs, well-known lips were panting so, so close to her own, and a well-known body was slotting itself against her in a way so familiar Billie’s arms automatically wrapped around its waist, her racket falling from her hand to land at their feet.

“ _Audrey_ ,” she breathed, her eyes wide as she tried to reorient herself after being pushed around. “What are you-”

“Shut up,” Audrey panted, her eyes wild as she stared at Billie, “Shut _up_ , Billie Dean.”

Billie’s mouth snapped shut out of reflex, her heart racing at the near-blackness of Audrey’s eyes as her pupils blew out.

“Do you know,” Audrey breathed, crowding Billie even farther against the fence, “how fucking _wet_ I am?”

Billie’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment it was all she could do to merely hold on as Audrey’s thighs slipped to either side of one of her own. Heat rushed up through her body as Audrey’s hips fitted themselves against her hip bone, and she clenched hard around nothing in sympathetic pleasure as Audrey’s face contorted with the new pressure from Billie’s thigh.

“Baby,” Billie managed to choke out, her clit throbbing as a high, needy whine escaped from the back of Audrey’s throat. 

With Billie in her tennis skirt and Audrey in her workout-appropriate athletic shorts, it was just enough material to keep Billie from directly feeling the arousal that had to be flooding out of Audrey, but little enough material to have her skirt rucked up into the groove of her thigh and Audrey’s hot little cunt grinding onto the bare expanse of Billie’s muscled leg.

Despite the broken pace of Audrey’s hips, her hand was steady as she grabbed Billie’s ponytail at the base and jerked her head back, diving in to lick a long stripe along the sweat that lingered on Billie’s neck. 

Billie choked out a startled moan, the pull of her scalp like a livewire to her cunt, and if she hadn’t been wet before, she certainly was now. Her hands scrambled along Audrey’s back before one found its way down to clutch at Audrey’s ass, helping her hips find a steadier pace against her thigh.

Audrey cried out against Billie’s neck, hips losing rhythm as they jerked, and Billie groaned at how Audrey’s whole body rolled against her, practically fucking into Billie’s thigh.

“That’s it,” Billie breathed, reaching up and tugging Audrey’s head back to watch her pretty little face flex and contort with pleasure, “That’s it, sweet girl. Take what you need.”

Audrey cried out again, grip clawing into Billie’s skin, and really, they should be quiet, but power and arousal burned through Billie’s veins as Audrey’s voice began to crack on the broken little whimpers forced out with every roll of her hips, and she just didn’t give a shit.

“Fuck,” Audrey mewled, moving both hands to cling helplessly at Billie’s shoulders, “Oh- oh _fuck_ \- Oh _god_ , Billie.”

Billie panted on a smirk, pulling Audrey’s hair until her back arched and a high, keening moan broke from her lips. Billie held her there for a long moment, watching hungrily as she writhed and shook and fucked herself onto Billie’s thigh.

Audrey’s whimpers slowly began to shift into whines, frustration seeping in around the edges, and Billie shifted, knowing the angle wasn’t great for Audrey to come this way, fully intending to flip their positions.

“ _No_ ,” Audrey growled, snapping her hand to Billie’s throat and pinning her back against the fence. 

Billie choked for a moment, eyes wide in shock as Audrey’s hand continued to press down. 

This was new.

And enough to have Billie’s swollen clit twitching against the seam of her tennis skirt, so fucking close to coming she could almost taste it.

Audrey groaned, her head dropping forward to press her forehead to Billie’s own, then gasped, hips picking up a frantic rhythm again, now unashamedly using Billie’s body fully for her pleasure.

“Fu- _fuck_ ,” she stuttered out, breath hot against Billie’s lips, and Billie could only stare in awed arousal, reaching down to clutch both hands at Audrey’s ass and pull her even harder against her thigh.

That pulled another cry from Audrey’s lips, her hand spasming tighter around Billie’s throat, and Billie groaned with a flutter of her eyelids. Whatever this was, whatever mood Audrey was having, _fuck_ it needed to happen more often.

“ _Billie_ ,” Audrey whined, her thighs beginning to shake, and Billie sucked in a shallow breath as she tightened her grip on Audrey’s ass, fully aware Audrey was about to come.

A few more frantic thrusts guided by Billie’s bruising grip and Audrey was shattering, all but screaming into Billie’s mouth, her body jerking and shaking in Billie’s arms as she cried out in pulsing intervals and dug painfully into Billie’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to not collapse.

She panted against Billie, foreheads still pressed together, and Billie eased her through the aftershocks, sucking in a desperate breath when Audrey’s hand finally moved from her neck to her shoulder as she lazily rolled her hips to ride out the pleasure.

Eventually her hips began to slow before finally stopping, and Audrey let out a long sigh with a smile, lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk as she blinked open her eyes to look at Billie. 

Billie swallowed tightly, eyes still wide as Audrey patted her cheek with a tiny coo and leaned in towards her.

“Get your things, I’ll be at the car,” she purred in Billie’s ear, pulling back with a smile and wink, and smoothly stepping away. 

Billie stared, dumbfounded, as she clung to the fence to stay upright.

Funny, how Audrey had been the one coming on Billie’s thigh, yet Billie was the one panting and trembling like she’d run a marathon, while she watched Audrey strut away as if she’d merely been going for a walk. 

A sound of confusion was all Billie could manage to force from her throat, and Audrey turned back around for a moment to laugh and grin at Billie’s questioning look.

Meeting Billie’s eyes with a hungry smirk, Audrey’s next words had Billie’s stomach swooping deliciously:

“I just spent an hour watching you grunt and sweat and run around this court without being able to touch myself. It’s cute how you think I’m _anywhere_ close to being done with you.”


End file.
